


Drunk Dialing

by isakvaltertrash (johntracythatsall)



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: A lot of them - Freeform, Drama, Drunk Isak, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions™, Eventual Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'll keep tagging as I go, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9374138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johntracythatsall/pseuds/isakvaltertrash
Summary: “I miss you, and I– I hate you, how could you just, you just left! I thought everything was okay and you just fucking left, Even, youleft– do you have any fuckingideawhat it’s been like to –“But Even is raising his voice to get through his ramble, interrupting him with a string of “I know, I know, I know”.But Isak is drunk and he’s angry and he’s not going to be that easy.--Canon divergence; what if minute by minute was still too much and Even left Isak alone again?





	1. Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! Long story short: Even and Eva are awfully similar names and probably next to each other on Isak's phone contacts. I got this idea on a school lesson and started to write this thing down on a _paper_ , can you believe it?
> 
> I should mention that this takes place somewhere in the last episode of s3. After Isak tried convincing Even to take one minute at a time, Even left him. _This_ , anyway, is what happens approximately two months after the 'break up'. 
> 
> Also I'd like to thank aMAZING & INCREDIBLE [Gael](http://isaksredscarf.tumblr.com/) for betaing and being such a life savior *worships the ground below you* <3

They are spending the Friday night like they usually do – drinking. This time the party is held at the house of some third year that Isak can’t for the death of him remember the name of. He has made his way outside to get some fresh air and call Eva to let her know that Chris is throwing his guts up in the bathroom. Although his drunken mind doesn’t fully understand why, he knows he has to get her there.

The thing is, it’s not his fault Even’s number happens to be right next to Eva’s in his contacts. It’s not his fault Jonas forced at least 4 beers and 5 shots down his throat and got him this drunk. So it’s not his fault when his shaky fingers accidentally press the wrong number without him even noticing.

And it definitely, _definitely_ is not his fault that the second the breathless “Hello?” reaches his ears he forgets every single coherent thought he’s ever had and drops his phone on the asphalt.

His drunk mind desperately tries to come up with a conclusion but he has no fucking idea why it’s _Even’s_ voice he heard instead of Eva’s high, girly one. His phone is still on the ground, screen shining in the dark of the night, the blinking numbers on the call duration getting bigger with every second.

16 seconds, 17, 18. Isak feels frozen to the spot.

22, 23. He can’t pick the phone up. He _can’t_. He had been doing so _well_. He had started going out again, and he even managed to gain enough energy to actually have something close to a _life_.

If Isak hears _his_ voice again now, everything will crash and burn.

33, 34. He’s not going to pick it up.

36, 37. He’s _not_. He can’t.

40, 41. It will ruin everything.

He is _this close_ to kicking his phone away and leaving it there when somebody suddenly bumps into him, hard enough to unbalance him. The girl giggles as she stumbles on her feet, apologizing before taking a long sip from the wine bottle she’s holding. Then she notices the phone – 55 seconds, 56, 57 – and she crouches down to pick it up, _Oh my God is this yours did you drop it,_ and the damned device is shoved into his hands.

Isak shakes his head just a little, mumbles _No it’s okay_ , and stares at the numbers still running on the screen. He licks his lips, his hands are shaking so _badly_ that it’s a miracle he’s still holding the phone. The drunk girl is trying to slur something else but Isak’s attention is elsewhere, his eyes locked on the running numbers.

It’s been one minute and 13 seconds and why hasn’t Even _hung up already?_

“You have, uhh…you’ve a phone call,” the girl keeps going, poking at his side with a giggle. Isak tears his gaze from the screen and glances at her – she’s pretty, and if Isak was the same guy he was a couple months ago, he would totally try and hit on her.

Isak is not the same guy anymore, though. So instead of smirking and coming up with something flirty, he mumbles a _yeah_ and turns his back on her. He starts walking, each step a little unstable, and when the call has been connected for a minute and half he _finally_ presses the phone back against his ear, wishing he hadn’t just made the dumbest decision of his entire life.

A part of him is a hundred percent sure he has.

The other part could scream with joy and burst into tears when Even’s worried “—did you go? Isak?” is carried through the speaker. He stops dead in his tracks; conflicting feelings threatening to overwhelm him. A small, shaky breath escapes his lips and he can hear Even sighing. They both stay quiet for a moment. Until –

“Isak?” And, _oh_ , his voice.

It brings back all the memories.

All the love.

And all the _pain_.

Isak is a fool. He’s a huge damn fool for thinking it would be _that_ easy to get over someone like Even.

“Isak, please say something.”

He hates him.

He loves him.

He wants to cry and wants to laugh, wants to throw his phone to Hell and sleep for eternity, wants to start running and never come back, wants to see Even so much it physically _hurts._ He licks his lips and gulps, keeping the tears from his eyes with pure willpower, trying to find words again.

“You’re not Eva,” is a horrible first thing to say to a person you have been missing like a part of your soul for two months and yet, it’s the only thing he _can_ say. He can practically _feel_ Even’s frown.

“No, I’m not. Were you…trying to call her?” And he has no right, no fucking _right_ to sound as hurt as he does. It’s his fault, everything’s his damn fault and it makes Isak want to scream.

“Yeah uh, Chris is– Chris is throwing up in the, uhh, bathroom. Asked for her.” Even hums as an answer and Isak squeezes his eyes tightly shut. Maybe if he keeps things formal, if he hangs up _now_ –

“I thought you got run over by a car or something. When you didn’t answer,” Even tells him, and the slightly worried tone in his voice really shouldn’t affect Isak like that anymore. “It’s, uh, dumb but…you scared me for a while there.”

Isak presses his lips together so tightly that he’s sure they will start to bruise soon, not daring to as much as breathe while trying to keep himself under control. There’s a horrific burning pain behind his eyelids and he hates Even so _much._ He wants to tell him, needs him to know _exactly_ how much he hates him, and he has the thought in his grasp and he opens his mouth.

And has no idea why “I miss you so fucking much” is what escapes instead but it doesn’t matter because his voice is betraying him. The burning in his eyes is even worse now and his throat feels fifty times tighter than usual.

Even breathes out and Isak is _lost_.

“I miss you, and I– I hate you, how could you just, you just left! I thought everything was okay and you just fucking left, Even, you _left–_ do you have any fucking _idea_ what it’s been like to –“

But Even is raising his voice to get through his ramble, interrupting him with a string of _“I know, I know, I know”_.

But Isak is drunk and he’s angry and he’s not going to be that easy.

“No, you left me, you fucker, you have _no idea_  how it felt to wake up that morning with you fucking _gone_ , I was so worried you were having another fucking episode and you weren’t _answering_ and I looked _everywhere_ for you, you wouldn’t return my calls –“

“Isak, listen to me! I made a mistake, I was scared and I didn’t wanna hurt you, I made a mistake!“

“Funny you should mention hurting me since that is the _only_ thing you did. You fucking _broke_ me, Even Bech Naesheim.” His voice is shaking like mad and he is so angry but so incredibly _sad_ at the same time. He has no idea what to do. His eyes are open again and if there are any tears, he is going to ignore them.

He can hear Even’s shaky breathing through the connection and for a moment they just breathe in unison, one too angry to form a single coherent thought and the other too sad to utter another word. Isak presses at his now closed eyelids, trying to force himself to gather the strength needed to say something, _anything_.

Even is faster.

“Tell me where you are.” It’s so quiet, almost a whisper, but it makes Isak feel so ridiculously _small_ and _powerless._

“…No.”

“Isak…please, just…tell me where you are.” Isak is shaking his head even though Even can’t possibly see it.

“No.”

“Are you at Wilhelm’s party? I need to see you,” and oh right, Wilhelm, that's the one. From the sound of it Even is getting up and moving but Isak is _not_ ready. He doesn’t want to see Even, but at the same time he feels like he’ll die if he can’t see him and he is just not _ready_ –

“I take that as a yes. Stay there.”

And then the call ends with the _beep beep beep_ that feels like doom and the hand that’s grasping onto the phone slumps like a broken doll’s. The screen is showing the duration of the phone call but Isak’s vision is blurred by the tears threatening to fall.

He lets himself slump to the ground. He shoves his phone in his pocket and buries his head in his hands. His breathing keeps hitching and he feels like he is _choking_ , but no matter how much he hates Even he doesn’t move from his spot.

After all Even had guessed correctly: it _is_ Wilhelm’s party he’s crashing. And here Isak is sat meters away from the boy’s house. If Even really _is_ coming, it won’t be a problem for him to spot the younger boy.

And as much as he hates Even, Isak has never in his entire life wished to see someone as much as he wishes to see Even right now.


	2. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He might be drunk, but he's not drunk enough to forget how much Even hurt him."
> 
> \--
> 
> A follow up to Drunk Dialing, the boys are reunited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter as promised, y'all! Sorry it took a while.  
> I am just taken aback by the amount of kudos and feedback you guys have given me, it's amazing and I love you all, thank you so much <3 
> 
> And a very special thank you to [the Lifesavior™ aka Gael](http://isaksredscarf.tumblr.com/) for being the best beta ever *worshipping continues*
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

He is leaning against a gate with his knees pulled up against his chest and his eyes closed. He’s cold, but he refuses to go get his jacket. He feels numb, but he doesn’t move from his spot. There’s nobody outside having a smoke or taking a breather, so the only sound Isak can hear is the low thump of the music from Wilhelm’s house.

He’s not sure how much time has passed and he doesn’t dare to take a guess – it could be anything between five minutes and two hours. Isak hasn’t taken another glance at his phone after Even hung up on him. The tiny voice inside his head is urging him to stand up and _leave_ because Even might not even be coming. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe it doesn’t really even matter and Isak should leave because after all that is what Even did to _him_.

He wouldn’t.

He won’t.

He will sit here, his ass slowly dying under him and the tips of his fingers getting increasingly numb with every passing minute, and wait. Because somewhere inside of him there’s a tiny voice that’s only a breath louder than the one urging him to go, and _this_ voice is telling him that _of course Even will show_.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

The fact that he has his eyes closed doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know it’s Even who is approaching him. It’s not only because of the small, rational part of his brain knowing Even should be there soon and although it’s possible, it is unlikely that anyone else would be walking at this exact part of the town at this hour.

It’s the quick, clear steps that sound exactly like Even’s; steps that aren’t dragging like the person they belong to is too lazy to completely lift his feet off the ground.

It’s the way the approaching person sounds out of breath, like he’s been jogging for a while and has only slowed his pace down now to not seem like a complete weirdo.

It’s how the atmosphere immediately turned tense and electric the moment Isak first heard the steps and the way he feels like the air he is breathing doesn’t contain oxygen at all.

And more than anything, it’s the fact that the steps stop dead in their tracks right in front of him, and how for a couple of seconds the whole world goes totally silent and all he can hear is the breathless “ _Isak_ ”

Isak’s eyes snap open and there he is, standing straight like the man mountain he is, chest heaving with labored breaths, cheeks slightly reddened from the cold air. He looks like he’s swaying on his feet a little, probably feeling weird to be standing so still all of sudden.

Isak quickly drops his gaze back down and stares at the tips of his a little too well-worn shoes, refusing to meet Even’s eyes, afraid that the moment he does he’ll forget everything he has to say.

“Why aren’t you wearing your jacket?” It’s a good question, an easy one to answer, but it still makes a familiar lump start forming in his throat. So he just shrugs, mutters _I don’t know_ and makes sure to _keep his eyes on the ground._

“It’s only February, you’ll get sick.” And if Isak wasn’t so drunk and cold and _numb_ he would be embarrassed of the way the worried tone in Even’s voice makes his heart thump just a _little_ bit faster.

“’m not cold.” It’s a lie, he is _freezing,_ but it’s easier to disagree when he is mad. And he is trying to be mad at Even so _hard_ that he almost believes it himself.

Almost.

“Isak, don’t be stupid,” Even sighs and Isak can hear the sound of a zipper being pulled open. Even shakes his jacket off his shoulders and hangs it in front of him.

Of course he is the kind of gentleman who offers his jacket even though it means he will get cold himself, Isak should’ve seen it coming.

“I said I’m not cold,” Isak huffs. He turns his head away from the jacket, still not looking at the boy in front of him. Even sighs and after a couple of seconds drops the jacket on him anyway because that is just who he _is_ : a stubborn _idiot._

And maybe it’s because he is still drunk but it annoys Isak so much that he sees _red_ and he shoves the jacket away and jumps to his feet, a little too quickly for his drunk brain to completely follow. He is careful not to touch Even as he fights for his balance, taking a couple of steps away from him. He is breathing heavily, feeling so frustrated he wants to hit something.

Even stands still behind him, whispering his name, and then it’s not about stupid, pointless things like being cold or offering a jacket anymore. It’s about Isak’s shattered heart that is furiously thumping against his ribcage as if it’s trying to break free, and Even’s pleading voice that makes Isak want to do exactly as he says.

Because after two months of sorrow and pain and trying to tape the pieces of his heart back together he still loves Even and he’s been _ridiculous_ trying to convince himself otherwise.

He wonders how many Isak’s there are, trying to keep their heads down and not look at their Even at this exact moment.

He wonders if any of them succeed.

With a deep sigh he turns around, an argument ready on his lips, and then he makes the fatal mistake. He meets Even’s eye.

And oh, his stare is _burning_ and so intense Isak would feel embarrassed if he wasn’t so drunk. Isak feels like he’s drowning in those pale blue eyes. All he can think is that it’s not fair for a human being to have eyes that magnificent _,_ and every single coherent thought he has dies on his lips before he can get anything out.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so _sorry_ , I messed up, Isak.” There are so many emotions in his voice and the lump forming in Isak’s throat is suddenly getting too big. If Even says another word while staring at him like _that_ Isak is going to lose it.

He rips his gaze away, shaking his head because he doesn’t trust his own voice. There are less than two meters between them and the voice is back in Isak’s head, screaming _go, run, leave_ and yet Isak feels like putting any more distance between him and Even will _crush_ him.

“Isak, look at me–“

“You _left me_.” He absolutely _hates_ how small his voice is, how it sounds a little bit too high and how his breath hitches at the last word. The familiar burning behind his eyelids is back and Isak is blindly staring off somewhere, desperately trying to blink the emotions away. _Don’t look at him, keep your eyes on the ground._

“I’m _sorry –“_

“It’s not enough!” His voice is stronger as he shouts. “You have no idea how scared I was! _No_ idea! You could’ve at least, I dunno, fucking _texted_ me or something!”

“Isak.” His voice is so serious, it’s almost stern, and suddenly there’s a hand grabbing Isak’s right arm, the grip firm but not painful.

“If I could, I’d change everything, Isak. You gotta believe me. But I can’t. The only thing I _can_ do is tell you how sorry I am, because I’m so sorry, you– you have every right to hate me, _I_ hate me. I just– you need to understand I never wanted to hurt you, I thought it would be for the best. You…you have to believe me.” Even’s voice is muffled with emotions and Isak is blinking faster, still refusing to so much as glance at him.

Even sighs, his voice shaky as he releases him off his grip and mumbles “But that’s…all, pretty much, I just wanted you to know I’m…sorry. So, terribly sorry. And I– just wanted to see you.”

And with Even’s shaky voice that seems to break a little towards the end, something in Isak breaks too.

The thing is, he has always thought of himself as a determined person. When he decides something, it happens. In theory, anyway. And Isak had _decided_ to hate Even, with every single fiber of his being.

But no matter how hard he is _trying_ to hate Even, he can’t.

And right now, at that exact moment, the person he loves with every single fiber of his being has an expression so sad it should be _illegal_ because it makes Isak’s heart feel like it has suddenly forgotten how to _be._

And Even is turning his back like he’s leaving _again_.

“I don’t hate you.” It’s a miracle he manages to get any sound at all through the giant lump that is threatening to explode in his throat. Even lifts his gaze back up. If the situation was any different Isak would smile, because his expression is making him look like a deer caught in headlights.

But at that exact moment the situation is not just about life and death; in his head it’s more, and really, from the moment he first saw Even that night there has only been one choice to make, one thing to do.

So Isak practically lunges himself at Even because even though there is barely a meter between them the distance has never felt so big. He needs to _touch_ him. Needs to stop Even before he leaves.

Even catches him, and suddenly they are together; so close that there’s not a part where Isak ends and Even starts. Isak’s head is buried in the crook of Even’s neck and if there are any tears involved, he’s too pumped with adrenaline to notice. Even’s hands are holding him like a drowning man holds a lifeline: so tight it’s almost crushing him.

Isak is more than willing to let him.

When the contact gets too little, Isak leans his head back just enough to see Even’s face. Neither of them are releasing the grip they have of each other. He nudges his nose against the older boy’s, and he’s close enough to count Even’s eyelashes. His vision is blurry but it doesn’t stop him from noticing the way Even’s eyes are welling up too, tears threatening to spill, and he finally, _finally_ brings his lips to Even’s.

Saying it’s like fireworks doesn’t do justice to what he experiences when he feels the other boy’s lips against his own. It’s a hundred times better than some stupid fireworks. The world could end in that exact moment and he wouldn’t even notice. Somehow it’s both so familiar and excitingly new at the same time.

It makes it feel like they never were apart to begin with.

He recognizes Even with every cell of his body, pressing into the embrace while softly nibbling at Even’s lip.

Even licks at his mouth and suddenly it’s not soft and steady anymore, it’s more like someone turned the heat up several degrees and Isak is _burning_ under his clothes, swallowing Even’s breaths and kissing him like it’s the only thing he cares about, the only thing that matters.

Because it is.

Even’s hands are in his hair, tugging at his curls as he moves Isak’s head to meet his lips _just right_ , pressing him into the kiss. Isak’s arms are around his neck and he _bites_ at Even’s lip, too heated to find it in himself to feel sorry.

It’s only when Even practically _grinds_ his hips against Isak’s and he all but moans into the older boy’s mouth because _this is not the place to have that kind of reunion._

“Maybe we should…” Isak whispers as he forces himself to pull back and catch his breath. Even is biting his reddened lips, looking down at him with so much heat it makes Isak _ache_ with want.

“Yours?” Isak nods and Even grabs his hand, starting to drag him in the direction of home.

Neither of them remember to grab their jackets.

Not like they need them, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so our cardamom sons are reunited! 
> 
> See, this was _supposed_ to be the end but I actually _maaaay_ have an idea for a third chapter - something involving Eskild, Even and a certain kitchen of a certain kollektivet. We'll see how that goes!
> 
> Thank you for reading, come prompt me or tALK TO ME (I LOVE TALKING) on [tumblr!](https://isakvaltertrash.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> tbc :*  
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
